Legacy
by Bellantara
Summary: Sven swore to defend Arus, and gave his life doing so. But does he have yet more to give?


A/N: I know, I know. . . a new story instead of updates. Please don't kill me! I promise, nothing has been abandoned. Except maybe me, by my muse. This was just a little thing to try and get my mojo back. Promise updates soon!

The day's events wouldn't let her sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, Allura saw Keith and Lance, white-faced and covered in blood, carrying a barely breathing Sven between them. She heard their voices, tense with strain as they worked to try and stabilize him, growing more frantic as time passed, then. . . the soft, pain-filled whisper of Sven's lyrical accent, saying his final farewell to his brothers, and the anguished cry torn from two throats as the quietest of them fell silent forever. No, sleep was out of the question tonight. Sighing, she got out of bed, finding her slippers by feel, and wandered out of her room.

The grief in the castle was almost tangible, even this late at night. Sven had been beloved by his teammates, brother in all but blood to Keith and Lance, and in his quiet way, had worked his way into the hearts of the few people that had crept back into the castle. She herself had been drawn to his dark good looks and the gentle, caring man that lay beneath the warrior. Now all anyone had was memories and the ache of what could have been.

Somehow, she wasn't surprised to look up and find her wandering had led her to the ballroom. Sven was lying in state there, guarded by each of his teammates in turn. Allura had wanted, volunteered even, to take a turn of her own, but Coran had vetoed the idea, thundering that it was grossly inappropriate for a princess. And Keith and Lance had been too lost in their grief to stand up for her as they usually did. So the boys kept vigil without her.

The soft strains of a guitar told her Lance was on watch before she could see him. Not wanting to intrude, she quietly slipped in to the room, taking one of the chairs against the wall. Lance sat in the, middle of the room, next to Sven's coffin, his eyes closed as his fingers wandered the strings of the guitar he held. Allura's heart twisted at the grief and tear stains on Lance's face; it wasn't like him to show his pain so openly. She started to speak, but as she opened her mouth, Lance opened his, softly singing in a gentle tenor. "'I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen, when you joined the great fallen, in 1916; I hope you died quick, and I hope you died clean; or Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?'" Allura sucked in a breath at the pain that shook Lance's voice, "'Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly. . .'" His voice broke abruptly; his fingers tightened convulsively on the strings. "Dammit to hell and back, Sven. . ." Allura saw him swallow hard, saw fresh tears well up in the pilot's green eyes. "What the fuck, you crazy Norwegian bastard? Stupid ass. . .Y-you're worth TEN of me. Why the hell would you throw your life away for me? WHY?" The guitar strings jangled harshly as Lance slipped out of his chair and fell to his knees, sobbing raggedly.

Allura couldn't stand watching his pain any longer. _Propriety be damned to the lowest hells,_ she thought grimly, and started towards the grief-stricken pilot. At the rustle of her petticoats, his head jerked up and her heart broke all over again at Lance's wet cheeks and utterly lost expression. "It should have been me," he whispered, not quite seeing her. "Oh gods, Allura. . . how could I have been so stupid? I KNEW that was Haggar's cat; why didn't I wait? And why did this stupid _bastard-" _he slammed his fist against Sven's coffin- "have to be so damned noble? He shouldn't have died for me!"

"Oh, Lance. . ." she dropped to a seat beside him, royal dignity forgotten. Hesitantly she brought her hand up, wiping the tears from his face. "He didn't _have_ to, even I know that. He _chose _to. Because he loved you. Just as you would have done for him."

*_She is right, min bror. You would do well to listen to her.* _Both of their heads snapped up at the familiar voice, which turned to a chuckle as their jaws dropped. *_Min gud, you look as though you have seen a ghost! Oh, I suppose you SHOULD.* _A column of hazy light formed in front of them, then flared too bright to look at. When Allura's vision cleared, she gasped. There stood the translucent but unmistakeable form of Blue Lion's fallen pilot, dressed in the black and white uniform he was being buried in.

"Sven?" Lance whispered, an ache in his voice as he reached out to touch the shade. "What. . . why?"

_*Ah, Lance. . .* _Sven looked down at his brother in all but blood, a soft smile on his face. _*You do not listen, min bror. I told you, this vas my choice, und I made it gladly, as I vould haf for any of you. I asked you vit my last breath not to blame yourself.* _He glanced at the ceiling, then back down at Lance and Allura. _*I do not haf much time; I had to come though, to fix the problem I caused.*_

Allura blinked. "Fix the problem? You mean us not having Voltron? But how can you fix that? Are.. . ." her eyes flew wide and she paled. "Are you coming back to life?"

Lance went white, but the Norwegian's spirit just chuckled. _*No, lille soester. I vould like to, very much, but. . .the Valkyrie do not release those they claim. I _do_ have a compromise, though, if you and the team are villing.* _Allura nodded slowly, as did Lance, and Sven continued. _*I am not allowed to come back to life, but it vas agreed. . . . I could transfer my knowledge to somevon else, to continue my fight.* _He knelt, putting a hand on Allura's. _*I vant dat person to be you, Prinsesse. You fight as no von else on dis planet, und I tink it vould be de best legacy I could possibly leave. Vill you take up de fight I can no longer continue? Vill you fly Blue Lion?*_

Allura looked to Lance, uncertain, and he took her free hand. "I know you want to fight, and we need you, Princess. I'll back you up 100%; to Keith, even though I don't think I'll need to, and especially to Coran and your people. Do it."

Reassured, Allura turned back to the waiting ghost. "Tell me what to do."

*_Just close your eyes.* _She did as told, and Sven touched her temple, closing his own eyes briefly. _*Dere, all done. You vill haf to practice, lille soester. Knowing is one ting, de strengt und muscle memory to USE it is anoter. I know Lance und de team vill help you.*_ He stood, and smiled down at them. _*I haf to go now; remember me alvays; take care of von anoter und. . . love each oter, ja? Farval. . .* _White light flared around him again, and his form faded into it.

"_Farval, min bror,_" Lance whispered, tears running down his cheeks. "Until we meet again."


End file.
